Lessons
by Dreaming Knightess
Summary: Fourteen-year-old Nealan of Queenscove is looking for a way to win his crush's heart, and needs to learn how to kiss. Who's going to teach him? Any and all warning labels supplied inside.


**Lessons  
**  
**A/N:** This rabid plot bunny struck me at four o'clock in the morning, while I was having trouble sleeping. So I scuttled off to write it, and this _thing_ emerges. This has got to be the smuttiest fic I ever hope to write. Special thanks to my beta, EymberFyire. Enjoy! (Psst, CC/reviews are greatly appreciated)  
  
**Warning:** Neal/Dom. Those who are squicked by the concept of incest: TURN BACK NOW. For those who are squicked by incest, and read on, I cannot guarantee you'll live through this fic. For those who're squicked by incest, read, and flame, I don't give a damn because you're obviously too stupid to read the warning labels supplied by the author. Good day!  
  
**Warning #2:** For those squick by smut/smut-like themes, the same applies to you as those who are squicked by incest.  
  
**Dedication:** To the SFF members of The Dancing Dove ). May your dirty minds never fail to wander and give inspiration, XOXO  
  
**Disclaimer for Morons:** I. Do. Not. Own. The. Characters.  
  
Fourteen-year-old Nealan of Queenscove nibbled on the end of his quill, composing yet another sonnet to Daine's smoky hair. A thought floated through his head: What had he glimpsed-- Daine and Numair kissing passionately-- was that what convinced her to like a man as old as he? After all, the older university students kissed each other often, and they seemed to like it well enough, or at least, they hadn't died of any serious illness yet. He _was_ curious, and perhaps this was a way to gain access to Daine's, or any other girl's heart.  
  
At the next family reunion, a month later, Neal gave the refreshment table a longing look before scuttling off in search of his favorite cousin. _The court ladies are always chirping about how handsome, and how sweet and romantic my__ seventeen-year-old cousin iss, so_, Neal supposed, _if he taught me, I would have learned from an expert_.  
  
Domitan of Masbolle listened to his great-aunt Amiline chatter on about how handsome and grown-up he was, occasionally slipping in a few "Thank you's" and "Oh, you're making me blush's". A certain green-eyed cousin walked up and stopped a good ten feet away, making gagging faces as Amiline went on about how the court ladies would instantly fall in love with his eyes.  
  
"Erm..." Dom nervously cleared his throat when his aunt paused for breath.  
  
"Yes, dear?" she affectionately reached up to pat his shoulder.  
  
"I—uh—must visit the privy, you'll understand," Dom lied. Immediately, his great-aunt's face contorted into a worried expression.  
  
"You haven't gotten sick, have you, dear?" She looked ready to faint at the thought of her precious nephew being ill.  
  
"Oh, no. Just an upset stomach," Dom smiled reassuringly. "Don't fret, I'll be fine." Flashing her another warm smile, he headed off in the direction of the privy.  
  
Halfway to the latrine, Neal caught up with him. "I don't understand how people can coo over something as disgusting as you," he drawled as a greeting.  
  
Good-naturedly, Dom grinned in reply. "Hello to you too, my darling cousin." Instead of taking a left, Dom took a right, into the gardens. His cousin shadowed him until they reached the roses, where Dom stopped. "Alright, Meathead, what do you want?"  
  
Neal made a face at the use of the nickname, but nevertheless, gave one of his usual, sarcastic replies. "What do _I_ want? What gives you the idea I want something from you? Perhaps I just came out here to enjoy the beauty of the flowers." He raised a brow before turning to sniff a half-opened rose. An angry bee buzzed out, scolding the youth for interrupting its visit with the fragrant flower. Neal coughed frantically as the bee narrowly avoided zooming up his left nostril.  
  
That drew a chuckle out of Dom. "I know you, Meathead. You're not the smell-the-roses type. Spit it out before I leave."  
  
After overcoming his wheezing fit, Neal looked solemnly at Dom before turning an astonishing shade of red. Scuffing the ground with his foot, he mumbled incoherently, avoiding his cousin's gaze.  
  
"Pardon? Didn't catch that." Dom placed a hand next to his ear. The mumbling grew louder. Impatient, Dom shook Neal's shoulders.  
  
"I _said_, will you teach me how to kiss?" Neal half-whispered, voice squeaking halfway through the sentence.  
  
Taken aback, Dom released the university student's shoulders. Both dark eyebrows rose higher than he thought possible. "Are you _serious_?"  
  
Loftily, Neal glared at Dom. "Of course I'm serious." Red-faced, his hands placed themselves on his hips. "Why wouldn't I be?"  
  
Wide blue eyes grew wider. A large hand nervously ran fingers through dark hair, considering his cousin's outlandish plea. Unconsciously, Neal's bottom lip pushed further out and his eyes turned pleading.  
  
"Please?"  
  
"Alright," Dom agreed, after a pause that seemed to last for hours. "The Queenscove insanity must've rubbed off on me."  
  
Five minutes later found the two relatives sitting on a stone bench, the older of the two wondering how to begin teaching Neal. "Er...right, Meathead. Let's see what you know first."  
  
The green-eyed youth blinked, obviously annoyed. "If I _knew_ anything, would I be asking you to teach me?"  
  
"Well, just try." In frustration, Dom threw his hands up and rolled his eyes. Lips were mashed against his and pulled away. Immediately, Dom regretted his rash words, smacking his forehead with his palm. "No no, Meathead, you're trying to _kiss_ the lady, not break her jaw."  
  
Neal shrugged. "You said to try, so I did. That's all I know."  
  
"I feel great and immense pain for whomever you're trying to court." Sighing, the King's Own soldier mentally resigned himself to hours of torture. "Alright, try being more gentle. The lady's not a sack of potatoes; she's got lips too. Don't act like you're kissing a rock." Closing his eyes, Dom hesitantly cupped Neal's face in one calloused hand and wrapped a strong arm around the small of his cousin's back, gently pressing his lips onto Neal's Never before had he noticed how plush and full they were. Amused by his thoughts, he grinned slightly, pulling away. "Now you try."  
  
A pink flushed decorated Neal's cheeks as he leaned in and softly brushed his lips against Dom's.  
  
"Now you're getting it," Dom approved, eye twinkling merrily. "Next step." Dom passionately enveloped Neal's lips in his, softly at first, then growing more and more fiery. His cousin responded, and Dom felt heat spreading through his body. Who knew his cousin was so natural at this, or that his warm lips tasted vaguely of cinnamon pastries? Gasping for air, they broke apart. Green eyes gazed into blue ones, and each saw something in the other that they had never seen before. Neal brushed a strand of Dom's dark hair out of his eyes.  
  
"And—and then—you use—your tongue," Dom panted, heart beating faster and faster. _Mithros, he is so _good_ at this_, he thought numbly. Their lips met, and Dom could feel Neal running his tongue over his lower lip, slowly coaxing him to open his mouth further. He obeyed, stroking Neal's jaw line. Giddiness and warmth rushed all over the soldier's body, engulfing him in ecstasy as Neal clung to him, shivering in pure joy. Breaths mingling hotly, they began to explore each other's bodies. Neal's long slender fingers discovered his older cousin's muscled chest, as his tongue caressed his older cousin's warm mouth. Dom's tongue began exploring the contours of Neal's lower lip.  
  
A faint gasp and a sudden thud of a body hitting the ground registered in Dom's sense. Moaning, he pulled away, resisting the temptation to go back to passionately kissing his cousin. He glanced over Neal's shoulder, and he saw Great-Aunt Amiline's still form sprawled on the path.  
  
"Oh my," he murmured, fighting to catch his breath as his lips throbbed. Neal turned around, and catching a glimpse of Amiline, flashed a grin.  
  
"Let's not wake her up," he breathed wickedly. Dom arched a brow.  
  
"What are you suggesting, Meathead?"  
  
Neal's expression nearly matched Dom's as he raised his own brow. "Shall we continue our lessons?"


End file.
